


Ruins of Change

by Jinxiia



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Archaeology, Cities of Skyrim, College of Winterhold Questline, Dwemer Ruins, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Guilds, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 22:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7194020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinxiia/pseuds/Jinxiia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ela'triel Rho'an is a fellow researcher for the University of Alinor, her field focuses on the Lost Races of Tamriel, the first Mer to settle it's shores. Tired of the confines and limited research that the Summerset Isles and western shores of Valenwood provide, the Altmer takes a position with a faction she doesn't necessarily agree with to further her goals. The direction she thought her life would take was never expected, however welcome or unwanted the events of her years in the north were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Start of Hypocrisy

**Author's Note:**

> I'll add more tags as events happen. I've rated it as mature for now, it possibly will change to a higher rating :).

Groaning as the wagon hit another hole, the Altmer woman scowled as they bounced down the road that someone had dared to call a highway. Despair and regret began to creep in, chilling the elven woman to the bone. Pulling her cloak around her body tighter, she buried her chin into the neck of it. Why didn't she just stay on the Isles? The warm weather with the beautiful beaches… Skyrim could hold no light to Summerset. The mountains were still covered in snow and the wind seem to have a malevolent spirit of its own. Sighing, she tapped the driver's shoulder, to which he grunted “a few more hours”. Huffing, the elf slouched on the bench. They wouldn't be at their lodging for few more hours and they’d still have all of tomorrow to make their way to Solitude’s Thalmor Embassy. She tried to shut out the dread. The Altmer wasn't normally this discontent, but then she supposed she was too privileged to know what was to be truly uncomfortable. A small truth that would have to change, after all, it was going to get much more uncomfortable with her plans…

 ––––

The journey had been despicably long and nearly unbearable to the Thalmor Embassy and the destination itself was no better. Immediately after arriving to the posting in the northern mountains, the newly-appointed Thalmor agent fully regretted her decision. Ela’triel’s desire to leave the Capital's University for better historical opportunities had severely compromised her judgement in such matters. Such realization had hit that much harder when one of the militant members had shown her to the quarters that were provided for her.

Staring at the cold, uninviting room, Ela’triel took a few steps in and turned to the Altmeri guard and gave a weak smile in thanks. Placing her bag on the chest at the foot of the bed, she waited until the thunk of his boots could not be heard on the stone floor, and then promptly collapsed width-wise on the bed with a loud sigh. Glancing around the stone ceiling, her eyes caught a Thalmor banner stretched over one of the walls. Rolling her eyes, Ela’triel propped herself up on the mattress. Such a simple living space, not like that which had been hers at the University. There, it had been beautiful and open, with large windows to allow the sea breeze and warm sunlight steal in. She had everything she could have possibly needed, with access to all the writing materials and research fellows she could get her hands on. Here at the Embassy, she'd be lucky to find basic binding and parchment.

Just thinking of the Summerset Isles made Ela’triel home sick; along with everything in Alinor, the University’s estate was brilliant. The vast land had been provided by the Crown ages ago, and had since then become the most formidable and coveted place to study, even with the homeland strife and civil disagreements. Cyrodiil’s own University paled in comparison, with its white towers and gaudy crystal decor. But that was to be expected, after all Men, not Mer had been the one to create it. This newest hovel she had been assigned to was a far cry from the luxury she was used to. She supposed she would have to get used to roughing it, after all, she would be taking her spare time to the ruins of both the Nords and the Dwemer. No luxury there… no heat either. Ela’triel shivered at the thought.

Huffing, she sat up and moved to the wardrobe on the opposite wall. Opening the doors, she found Thalmor robes hanging and plated boots on the bottom, obviously placed for her as a giant scroll was attached by the hanger with _Ela’triel Rho’an_ was scrawled in loopy handwriting across it. ‘ _Fantastic_.’

The relatively young Altmer had been held in esteem for her accomplishments in her preferred studies of the Ancient Races such as the Maormer, Dwemer and other such lost kin. Now she was slumming it as Thalmor, and a Justiciar to top it off. Having little experience in such matters only made it worse. She was warned before taking the position that it wasn’t going to be fun, nor would she be allowed to continue her research whenever she pleased. However, it was a way to get to this region of Tamriel and have it fully funded, so she had agreed to the terms provided anyways. Taking the scroll, Ela’triel tossed it on the bed and grabbed her bag and begun to unpack her belongings. Thankfully, one of her friends had been able to enchant the bag to which she had nearly stuffed with writing tools, winter clothing, and potions - more than a normal bag of this size would be able to contain. Pulling the clothing free, she hung her dress robe, and the clothing she had planned for her archaeology excursions. Removing her warm travelling cloak, she added it to the hangers and slipped several pairs of footwear into the bottom of the wardrobe, she closed the doors and flopped back onto the bed.

Unrolling the scroll, she held it above her body as she skimmed it. After the morning meal, Ela’triel would report to Anemir, the Admissions Officer in Castle Dour, the city of Solitude’s military headquarters. Grumbling, she tossed the scroll over her head and listened to it the wall with a satisfactory clunk. Why couldn't they have just had everything prepared here at the Embassy for her? Irritated and cold, the Altmer wrapped the blanket around her like a cocoon. After a few minutes of staring up at the ceiling, she untangled herself from the bedding and decided to explore the Embassy.

Moving through the hall to the stairs, she descended back down them to the room she was first brought into. This is where she'd take her meals with the others the guard had mentioned as he had shown her upstairs. Looking around the room at the tables and benches, she noticed a fruit bowl and a plate of buns. Grabbing an apple and a dinner bun, she stuffed the bread into her mouth. Humming in approval of the fresh bread, Ela’triel continued to peruse the room. Noticing a bookshelf, she went to it and started pulling the titles. The Cake and The Diamond, Aedra vs. Daedra, and several other sporadic books in the mix. Ela’triel’s fingers continued to ghost over the bindings of the books as she continued to eat the bun. Stopping over an unfamiliar book, she tilted the binding into her palm. The Uncommon Taste. Pursing her lips together, she flipped open it to find it was a cook book. Reading over a recipe, she startled when a loud clank came from a door across the room. Holding a wooden crate, a Bosmer male caught her gaze and quickly apologized and grumbled something under his breath she did not catch. Closing the book, Ela’triel put it under her arm and walked over to him.

“Is there something I could help you with?”

The elf knit his brows together and shifted the crate to his hip. “Well, I'll be. No snark. That's very un-Thalmor of you, very unexpected. You must be the University associate. Elenwen mentioned you'd be arriving.” Looking over her quickly, he met her eyes again, “Definitely not what I was expecting. You're young. Don't seem like a Thalmor.”

Wrinkling her nose in distaste, Ela’triel retorted, “I'm not that young.” Shifting the book into her hands, she purposely looked over him. “You're obviously not Thalmor. What would bring a Bosmer citizen so far north?”

“No, not Thalmor, thank the Eight, but they pay better than most, especially to one of the Dominion.” Placing his crate on a chair, he shook his hands out. “Name’s Malborn. I was born here. Skyrim, that is, though further south. Falkreath, actually. A friend got me this job, it's not terrible. Elenwen hosts large parties and private soirées for all the important people. The benefits of working these get gatherings are pretty good.” Picking up the crate again, he motioned with a nod of his head to follow him. Moving through another door, wonderful smells wafted through.

Quickly following Malborn, Ela’triel entered the kitchen’s storage room and followed him through to the kitchen itself. Noticing a female Khajiit sweeping the floor, she stopped in the doorway.

“Tsavani, this is the new Thalmor agent. The University one.” Malborn tossed over his shoulder as he placed the crate on a counter and begun to remove the bottles from within it.

“Uh, hi. Ela’triel, actually. And I'm not actually an agent, not even really a Thalmor…” Ela’triel trailed off as the two others stopped to stare at her. “I mean, I guess I am. Currently. Temporarily. I took the position recently, so that I may gain some experience and continue my research.”

“Gain experience? Not that young, huh.”

Blushing, Ela’triel looked away. “What I mean to say is I'm here to gain experience in a leadership role of some type. This position became available recently, and it opened an opportunity to come and study the ruins here. Specifically, the Dwemer architecture.”

“This one likes old things. She'll like Rulindil. Maybe” Tsavani chuckled.

Turning from the counter, Malborn laughed. “No one likes Rulindil. Except Elenwen, and we all know why…” The Altmer gave Ela’triel a wicked grin and a wink.

Grimacing, Ela’triel shook her head in response, which in turn made Malborn laugh again. He had a deep laugh that made her smile and chuckle along. Tsavani moved toward the elven woman with a dish and a small spreading knife. Handing it to her, the Khajiit shooed Ela’triel towards a wooden chair along the same wall as Malborn’s counter. Noticing the contents of the dish, Ela’triel swiftly planted herself in the seat and used the knife to spread butter on the remaining part of her dinner bun. Tsavani and Malborn continued to talk about the Embassy, and what the newest addition should expect. She listened to their stories and joked along with them as she ate her apple. Perhaps she would be able to bear the Embassy if she had fellow souls to share her misery.

\--------

The sun disappeared behind horizon, any warmth in the air quickly vanishing along with it. Fires throughout the Embassy were stoked with fervent devotion, the lamps were lit, and heating spells were cast. The Embassy filled as the darkness became more prominent in the night sky. The dining hall hosted the Thalmor guards, agents, and ranking members for the evening meal. Mead and wine were brought out in kegs, large game was prepared, root vegetables and leaves set out on the tables. Ela’triel had stayed in the kitchen with the other two for the rest of the afternoon, helping when Malborn would give her tasks, and when Tsavani wasn’t paying attention. The Khajiit had threatened the elven male more than once with a ladle if he wouldn’t stop. She had declared she wouldn’t take the fall for tasking a Thalmor Justiciar with meal prep. Ela’triel had just laughed and promised she would take any blame, citing she’d play it up as it was her who demanded to help. Tsavani had narrowed her eyes in return, mumbling to herself in Ta'agra, the home language of Elsweyr.

Several other servants had joined in the end, helping with setting up the hall. Brelas, a Bosmer woman, had been happy to trade gossip with Malborn, though keeping a wary eye on the Altmer in the kitchen. Ela’triel had simply smiled and endeavored to give the Bosmer woman space throughout the evening. Tsavani patted her arm just before pushing her out of the kitchen, assuring Brelas would warm up to her as long as she didn’t pull any of the Thalmor supremacy on her. Nodding, Ela’triel left to join the others.

Elenwen had noticed her coming out the kitchen and gave a look of disdain. Giving the Emissary a meek smile, Ela’triel skirted up the stairs to her room to quickly change into the Thalmor robes she had ignored earlier; wishing she hadn’t, but glad that they didn’t smell of the kitchen. Tossing the cookbook on the bed, she pulled the plait in her hair out and ran her fingers through the soft amber waves to allow her hair to flow. Checking her appearance in the standing mirror in the corner of her quarters, she brushed her bangs out of her face. Her golden eyes stared back at her in the reflection. Grabbing a kohl stick, she touched up her eyes, and rubbed her cheeks to bring colour to her light yellow skin.

Returning to the hall, she looked for a place to sit. Smoothing the robes, she scanned the room, not recognizing anyone other than Elenwen. Catching her eye, the Emissary waved over when she was seated with several other ranking Thalmor. Nodding in approval and the change of appearance, Elenwen motioned to the bench seat beside her for Ela’triel to sit. Following the summons, Ela’triel sat, and bowed her head in acknowledgement to the others as Elenwen introduced her around the table. A few of the members nodded in recognition of her family name, her father being known for his involvement with the Crystal Tower and with Alinor itself.

Elenwen had explained that Anemir would be waiting for her at Castle Dour in the morning to go over her paperwork and duties before being assigned elsewhere in Skyrim. As they ate, she listened to the conversations throughout the hall that she could pick out. The officers discussed the current events of Solitude and surrounding area, the soldiers gossiped and joked around with each other. She picked up discussions of the Talos hunt amongst the different tables. Sighing, Ela’triel lifted her wine to her lips. Talos. The one subject she cringed internally over. Her own religious beliefs often clashed with other Altmer, and more specifically, the Thalmor. Her parents had been so surprised that she had applied for the Skyrim Justiciar position because of the main responsibility of the position: hunting down Talos worshippers and bringing them to “justice”. Ela’triel had always believed live and let live. She had never understood why those around her couldn’t just mind their own business, especially in the case of Faith and Religion. Listening to the others converse around her, she ate her meal in quiet contemplation. She was here to do a job and continue her research, there were going to be unpleasant parts of this arrangement. Ela’triel just wished it didn’t involve punishing those who had a faith in something that the Altmer didn’t agree with. It confused her to a degree. The Thalmor hunted Talos followers, but were fine with aligning themselves with the Dominion… which included the Green Pact Bosmers… Wrinkling her nose at the thought of the cannibals, she finished her last bite of the elk on her plate. Noticing the look, Rulindil, the Third Emissary, who sat across from her questioned the younger elf on her meal. Catching herself, she smiled and assured him it was thread of thought that had crossed her mind. Excusing herself from them and bidding them good night, she gathered her plate and utensils and dropped them off at the clearing station by the kitchen.

Making her way back to her room, she closed and locked the door behind her. Stripping from the Thalmor robes, she glared at the offensively well-fitting and comfortable cloth. Sighing she hung it up and removed her shoes she hadn’t bothered to change previously. Grabbing a tunic from the bottom of her enchanted bag, she slipped it over her head. She’d sleep in her breast band and smalls tonight. The chill was too uncomfortable. Placing a heating rune of the floor and stoking her hearth, she turned to her wash basin. Heating it, she scrubbed her face and tied her hair back for retiring. Ela’triel slumped into her bed and pulled the blankets over her torso. Grabbing the book she had abandoned on her bed earlier, she opened it and lost herself in it. Cooking was something that had always relaxed her, something she had enjoyed. Hopefully reading about it help. Tomorrow would begin the hypocrisy she had decided was apparently worth her soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use Nexusmods.com for all my modding needs, and one of my favourites is "Alternative Start - Live Another Live" by Arthmoor @ http://www.nexusmods.com/skyrim/mods/9557/? (Which is what I used for my Thalmor start.)
> 
> Thank you modding community!


	2. The Execution of Orientation.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _His last words left an uneasy feeling in Elëwyn as the masked man beside him lifted his great axe._
> 
> _“On this day...I go to Sovngarde.”_

The morning had come, just as expected. The sunlight poured in through the window, just as expected. The intruder sitting on the foot of her bed most certainly was _NOT_ expected. Ela’triel had felt the dip at her feet and it had only slightly registered. Wrinkling her nose, she moved to switch to her stomach from her back and inadvertently kicked him.

“Hey!” Malborn squawked.

Bolting straight up in alarm, she drew electricity to her hands, ready to aim it at the offending guest.

“WHOA! WAIT!” the Bosmer scrambled backwards, falling off the end of the bed, hitting the chest, and landing flat on his back on the stone floor with a thud. As her eyes became accustomed to the brightness of the room, she peered over the bare feet sticking up in the air. Malborn’s hand shot straight up and he waved from the floor, audibly catching his breath. Dismissing the magic, Ela’triel sighed, moved to her knees, and crawled to the end of the bed, pushing his feet off the footboard. She waited until the man awkwardly righted himself.

“That’s a very good way to get yourself killed, you know.” Sitting back on her heels, her shins were enveloped by the mattress. She placed her hands on her thighs, a look of displeasure crossing her features.

Rubbing his head, Malborn meekly grinned up at the scowling Altmer several feet above him. “Noted.” Pushing off the floor, he stood and straightened his clothing. “I just figured I’d be safe in here from any Thalmor attacks, seeing as I work here… I guess I’ll have to re-evaluate my security.” He winked at the irritated woman on the bed.

“Do you normally just show up in someone else’s chambers, uninvited?” Ela’triel narrowed her bleary eyes at him. “It’s highly inappropriate.”

“Nah, just the ones who should have been up an hour ago because they’re expected to be in Solitude in less than an hour.” he replied smugly.

“What?!” Ela’triel scrambled back over the bed to the nightstand to the enchanted astrolabe on its surface. Grabbing it she glared at it. ‘ _How…’_ she hadn’t stayed up that late had she? It wasn’t like her to sleep for so long. Placing the astrolabe back on the end table, she swung her feet over the side of the bed and planted her feet on the stone floor. Yelping at the cold touch, she jerked her feet back to the mattress, her eyes wide in shock.

Chuckling, Malborn grabbed a bowl he had placed on the desk with a toasted bun. Moving in front of her, he handed her the porridge and bun. “Eat, do your thing, and don’t forget the robes. I offered to walk to you Solitude this morning, but don’t dally.” Malborn did a quick once over the unamused woman, “Also, you’re not half bad when you wake up. Hair all tossed and all,” he winked again and laughed as Ela’triel grabbed at her hair with her foodless hand, pulling it down and trying to tame it.

“Out!” her glare intensified at the smirking elf. She continued to give his retreating form the most threatening look she could muster as he gave an elaborate bow and bounded out of her quarters, shutting the door behind him. Groaning out loud, she cast a heating rune on the floor and turned her attention to the bowl in her hand. Eating the porridge as quickly as she could, Ela’triel mentally kicked herself. How could she have slept in - on her first day no less! Placing the bowl back on the desk, empty of its contents, she moved to the mirror and wash basin. Grabbing a brush from her bag, she started running it over her scalp and down her amber locks. She really did look frightening. The previously braided hair hadn’t fared well over night. She’s have to look into getting proper pillows and silk cases, the cotton-weaved material did nothing for her. Rushing through her personal care, she tossed her hair up into a neat bun, low to her neck, fixed her bangs to the side, and twisted her facial pieces around her fingers and curled them with heated magic.

After washing her face, Ela’triel replaced the kohl along her bottom lashes, and rubbed her vanilla and honey beeswax balm on her lips. Stripping her sleeping attire off, she grabbed the cloth by the basin and quickly ran the damp cloth over her body. Tonight she’d find a proper bath. Grabbing her spare breast band and smalls, she yanked them on and donned the Thalmor outfit. Checking herself in the mirror, she watched herself blink back. Stepping back and sighing, Ela’triel shook her head. Today is the day that would start her on a direction she was so very apprehensive about.

Grabbing the porridge bowl, the Altmer opened her door and moved down the hall to the stairwell. As she descended, Tsavani came out of the kitchen and smiled sweetly. Wishing the Khajiit a pleasant morning, Ela’triel placed the bowl in the dish drop off area. Tsavani returned the sentiment, adding a “good luck” before Malborn walked through the doors from the foyer and motioned her to follow. Moving after him, they passed a guard who barely bothered to acknowledge them. Malborn had mumbled under his breath, catching himself as he caught the look Ela’triel gave him. Her mood had not improved. She simply reminded him that she too, was Altmer. He apologized and pushed through the Embassy’s front doors.

The cold, crisp air hit them sending a shivering jolt down their spines. Malborn assured his temporary ward that she’d get used to the cold and the snow. She snorted back a retort which earned her a sheepish grin. The outer gates were opened by the two guards that stood watch over the gate tower. Leaving the Embassy, Ela’triel felt another chill race down her spine. Taking a deep breath of the frigid air, she shivered and kept time with the Bosmer who didn’t seem dressed appropriately for this trek, nor bothered by temperature. The pair walked in silence as the lane led down to the main road to Solitude. Ela’triel glanced around at the snow covered scenery. When she had arrived the day before, the sun had high in the sky and she had been so cold and miserable from the ride that she hadn’t cared to look around. There was a beauty to the area she wouldn’t admit aloud. Watching as a few rabbits darted in and out of the shrubs, playing in the snow, Ela’triel chuckled. Malborn stayed silent, his footsteps and his breath making the only break in his demeanor. Glancing over at her traveling companion, Ela’triel opened her mouth to say something to him, but he saw it and interrupted her.

“You know, I’m sorry. For earlier.” The Bosmer shoved his hands into the pockets of his thin coat. “I shouldn’t have just assumed… I should have sent Brelas or Tsavani in. I guess, you know, I just wanted to make your first day....” He sucked in a breath. “Well, you know. Oh, sorry about the comment.” Malborn finished quietly.

Surprised at the apology, she blinked a couple of times, and broke into a crooked smile. “Which comment? You’re obviously talking about the bedhead one, right?” Shaking his head he returned it with a grin. “Just next time, give a girl a chance to look presentable before waltzing into her quarters.” She watched him as he nodded.

The two elves turned onto the road to Solitude, passing a lane to a farm and stable that Malborn had said was owned by a woman named Katla. He bragged about her sweet rolls, and said he’d introduce Ela’triel to the farmer at some point. Passing under the first watchtower arch, she caught the eye of an Imperial guard. He nodded, quickly averting his eyes away. She had heard about the mostly silent resentment between the Thalmor and the Imperials. The Imperials put up with the Thalmor and their arrogance because of the White-Gold Concordat, which only angered the natives of Skyrim. The Imperials allowed the Thalmor to continue their hunt of Talos worshippers, which in turn created resentment and malice from the Nords towards the Imperials and their allies. _That_ only revolved into a snowball effect of fighting and brawls to an outright war.

On of one of her stops on route to Skyrim had brought her the news of Skyrim’s High King Torygg, who was murdered by the Jarl of Windhelm, Ulfric Stormcloak. The notice from Elenwen had said that Torygg had been killed by something called _Dragon Tongue_. (Ela’triel wasn’t sure how a plant like that could be used as a murder weapon. It wasn’t poisonous.) The Nord had escaped, and there was now a country wide search for the man who had murdered the High King. With this search, the Stormcloak rebellion was united and in full force against the Imperials. The recent events would not make Ela’triel’s job uncomplicated or her goals easily obtained, as Elenwen had declared in the letter.

Ela’triel’s apprehension on her new position only grew stronger. She’d be there to enforce certain religious standards, in a country war-torn and full of hatred to those who opposed the Imperials and Thalmor. How there hadn’t been reports of attacks on the Thalmor themselves had been surprising. Perhaps the Imperials kept the Nords’ attention, enough to keep the incidents with the elves low enough not to be newsworthy. Walking into Solitude’s heavily guarded Castle Dour was becoming less and less appealing. After all, wasn't this the city that had let Torygg’s executioner in through its front gates… as well as allowed him to escape? She shuddered at the thought. Malborn glanced sideways at the involuntary spasm and Ela’triel gave him a crooked smile in return. Two Imperial guards stood at the gates, the doors closed at their backs. Recognizing her Thalmor robes, and apparently her Bosmer companion (who gave them a wave of his hand) the guards pulled open the large, armoured doors to the city.

Upon entering through the doors and large arch wave they were met with a large crowd, jeering and yelling. Just inside the gates was a platform with several guards and a Nord male in shackles, set before the restless group.

Malborn slowed his pace alongside Ela’triel to watch the unfolding scene before them. Nudging Ela’triel softly, Malborn whispered in her ear that the man in the officer's uniform was Captain Aldis and his prisoner was one of the city guards. The very man responsible for the escape of the High King's murderer, Roggvir. The Bosmer asked her if she knew what had transpired, to which she nodded her response. As the guards moved the Nord behind the executioner’s block and down to his knees, Captain Aldis addressed the crowd and then Roggvir. Roggvir maintained his innocence and outcries of “traitor” and “liar” filled the morning air. A small voice was heard behind the crowd, “They can't hurt uncle Roggvir. Tell them he didn't do it,” to which another ordered the child to go home until her mother arrived. Another voice piped in which began a quick spat, which died down as Aldis spoke solemnly, “Very well, Roggvir. Bow your head.” His last words left an uneasy feeling in Ela’triel as the masked man beside him lifted his great axe.

“On this day...I go to Sovngarde.”

The axe swung heavily down upon its victim, severing Roggvir’s head from his body, blood leaving his body at an alarming rate. Ela’triel cringed and screwed her eyes shut as a violent shudder ripped through her body. Malborn shifted his weight uncomfortably and gave a light squeeze on her forearm. This had been her first public execution. The Altmer dealt with executions differently, and it wasn't such a public affair. The Thalmor ended the lives of those they found guilty in an even more private way as to bring no condemnation upon themselves. She had yet to commit any fatal crimes against another, and she silently prayed to her Aedra she'd never have to. Waiting for the crowd to disperse, Aldis seemingly spoke to the corpse before him and to no one at all, “Damn shame Roggvir, you were a good man." The Captain moved away from his post and left down the stairs of the platform as the two guards charged with watching Roggvir moved to place the decapitated head in a thick burlap bag and grab the body for the burial cart.

Ela’triel stared at the uniformed Nord as moved closer to where they stood, to head towards the path to Castle Dour. Captain Aldis caught her eye as she stared, her face noticeably pale. He stopped a few feet from her and apologized for the display, mentioning that although Roggvir was a fine and honorable man, it was justified and necessary to provide the people of Solitude a public execution.

Unable to force herself to respond, she gave the Captain a weak smile. An inappropriate response, one she'd later regret, but it was all she could do to keep herself from running back through the city gates. The Altmer would have to grow thicker skin and a stronger stomach. Malborn quickly stepped in and made the introductions, adding she was to meet with Anemir inside of Castle Dour. Aldis gave a quick nod of his head and offered to take her the rest of the way to the waiting Thalmor. Agreeing for her, Malborn gave Ela’triel a sympathetic look, another reassuring squeeze on her arm, and stepped away. Following the Captain, Ela’triel glanced back at the Bosmer who had turned towards the tavern. Looking ahead, she climbed the stone wall's path towards the looming walls of Castle Dour. Swallowing the feeling of rising bile, she clasped her hands tightly in front of her, allowing Aldis to lead her through a large stone arch and through a well-fortified door. Once inside, Aldis motioned to a bench along the wall for her to sit, which she did promptly and thoroughly relieved.

“First execution?"

A nod.

“It's never fun, but it gets easier. You'll have to get used to it, you're Thalmor, isn't that why you're here?”

She lowered her head to glare at the stone floor.

Sighing, Aldis continued towards another doorway, “I'll get Anemir. Wait here.” The elf continued to stare at the stone floor, silent and in shock. She hadn’t even heard the footsteps of another coming towards her.

“You're late,” a tall, blonde Altmer snapped, drawing Ela’triel’s attention from the floor to his Justiciar robes. His eyes narrowed and a look of disapproval flooded his features. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his long, thin fingers drummed along his bicep. Ela’triel stood up from the bench, her posture stiff as she swallowed the rising bile feeling in her throat. The Thalmor glided over to her, appraising her without shame or even a hint of decency. Stopping just in front of her, he stood a few inches higher than Ela’triel, easily looking down his nose at her. Refusing to be stared down, she held her ground and stared back at him, her chin slightly raised and skin still quite pale.

He smirked at her apparent defiant demeanour. “You'll lose that chip on your shoulder soon enough, girl. This piss-infested country will see to that. I would suggest, in the future, that you are not late again. The others would relish in finding ways to punish you. ” Turning his back he swept through the door he had come from and motioned for her to follow. They passed a large table with a map of Skyrim spread over it, and a couple of officers standing over it, pinning symbols to it. She'd have to steal a glance at it before she left for the night. Following Anemir, he showed her to a room with a large desk and bookshelves lining its walls. Motioning for her to sit, he picked up a bundle of papers and placed them in front of her on the desk. Pushing an inkwell and a quill pen to the side, he pointed at several books at the corner of the desk. “This paperwork is where you will start. There are agreements, contracts, and waivers to be read over and signed. Once they are complete, you will read over those books. They will guide you through much of the information you will require for your time here in Skyrim. There is basic knowledge about the cities, areas, and people groups that you will interact with. Read them carefully.”

Moving from the desk to the largest of bookshelves, he grabbed a large tome. Placing the leather bound book on the opposite corner of the desk, Anemir stated, “This is the most important thing you will read. This holds the Thalmor history, ideals, and decrees. The White-Gold Concordat outline, the Third Aldmeri Dominion outline…” Anemir stopped short when he noticed the elf at the desk had raised her eyebrow at him. Huffing, he narrowed his eyes, “Don't look at me like that. This particular process has sadly become standard because _your_ generation does not seem to know or care about the history or place of the Thalmor in Tamriel.”

“I assure you, I am quite aware.”

“Consider this a refresher then.” Anemir challenged.

Running her tongue behind her teeth to keep from responding, Ela’triel nodded. Her mood only continued to spiral downwards, and as much paperwork as she thought she'd have to do, she didn't think she'd have to wade through the damnable doctrine of the Thalmor among everything thing else.

Watching as she set the quill in the inkwell and picked up the small bundle of papers, he waited as she skimmed and rifled through the top few. Satisfied Ela’triel wouldn't continue to challenge him, Anemir left the desk so she could begin her orientation. Stopping at the doorway, he called her attention from the paperwork, “If you have questions, write them down. We will go over them once you've completed all of it.” The determined scowl from the new Justiciar was all he needed. Shutting the door behind him, he smirked. It has been sometime since the last feisty one, and he would enjoy sending her to her actual posting. The Commander would loath her defiant streak; he was never good at being challenged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I write a chapter, let it sit, re-read it, re-work it, Spellcheck, spellcheck, grammar!
> 
> Drop me a line if you see anything amiss!

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes. Feel free to let me know if something is amiss, or even just a note to let me know what you think! I'd love to hear from you. :)


End file.
